Life Is Good
by Araeana
Summary: This is a parody of a journal used with permission of anonymous author .


It's cold. Cold and grey. The rain pounded down, mixing with and hiding the woman's tears. Blood streamed from a slash down her belly, staining her shirt, then pants, and finally shoes. She stumbled deeper into the darkened alleyway, hand held to her wound as if to try and stop the bleeding, only dimly aware of her still exposed knife. Sheathing it, she looked up with a grimace; mentally berating herself, cursing a god who she was convinced wasn't there. No one ever was these days, not that she needed them to be, or so she told herself every time this came up. She questioned why it was she was chosen for this life, what she did to deserve this. Her thoughts turned to the fight that resulted in this wound, resulted in another woman's death. For this, for the other woman, for her own fate, she cried harder. She dropped to her knees, sobbing almost audibly, a habit which had been beaten out of her years ago, back when she was still a child. She leaned against the wall and hugged herself, feeling the effects of blood loss become too much, feeling herself become mildly delirious though she couldn't say for sure was causing it. Eventually, she passed out, feeling just a little more dead inside.

_A girl, no more than eight or nine, awkwardly held a knife in both her hands, blood dripping down it and melting into the snow at her feet. She stared wide-eyed at the figure kneeling before her, and the wound just below his solar plexus soaking blood into his torn, stained shirt. "Will you stop hitting us now?!" she cried, tears dripping pouring down her frost burned cheeks. The sound of another, younger child could be heard nearby, sobbing and begging for help, for mercy, anything to stop what they both knew what was coming. The kneeling figure laughed until a coughing fit overtook him momentarily. "Your mother let me in, lets me do as I like around this house" he gestured past the girl's head at the shoddy mostly-collapsed house behind her, making her flinch hard, "—even lets me do as I like with you and your brother. I am your new father! You know what fucking happens when any of you disobey your father? And stop crying!" He brought his arm back from the gesture to next to his head, where it paused. She stared at it, vaguely hoping he would reconsider, only to see an explosion of light and color before hitting the ground several feet away. She dimly saw the man move to where her younger brother was poorly trying to hide. She tried desperately to stop him, to take the blow, to just move, and everything faded as she heard her brother scream in anguish._

As she woke, the woman looked around and assessed her situation. This was a habit long since formed, and she saw no reason to stop. She realized she was shaking and very cold, though she could not see her breath. She quickly rolled over and vomited, then stifled a scream. She had nearly forgotten the fight last night and her wound, all the blood she lost. Cleary, she went into shock rather than just slept and thought of how close she had come to not waking at all again. All of these observations were made with a sort of detached clinical interest, as if it had happened to someone else in some medical study. A thought rose in the back of her head that maybe regarding it like this isn't healthy, that there's something wrong inside too, with what little is left. She shook her head slowly and disregarded it. Of course something is wrong, there's just nothing she can do about it. Everyone with letters after their name has tried, only to give up months later. CPTSD they called it. To her, that just meant she was broken, but as long as she didn't talk about it, everything was fine.

Looking around some more, her mind snapped back to her wound. She decided she couldn't just walk it off, so to speak; she had to get to the hospital. The doctors here didn't ask questions, so long as the patients had a way to cover the bill, which was perfect for her and the injuries she sustained. She muttered every swear she knew fighting the pain as she stood, and began walking. It looked to be just before dawn, so no one would stop her, just as they wouldn't want to be stopped. She walked carefully the six or so blocks to the hospital, ducking into dark corners when police cruised by. After what seemed like hours, she arrived at the emergency room entrance. The hard trembling and blood loss finally proved too much and she dropped to her knees, vomited, and again passed out.

She awoke again stitched up in a hospital room. They had medicated her, for which she was grateful. She looked down at the uneven, rushed stitching and shook her head; another fight, another scar. Thankfully some of her older and shallower ones were almost faded away. She didn't have much going for her in the way of looks, so being covered in scars was something she tried to avoid. She laid back and stared into space until a nurse entered the room. Without mincing pleasantries, she spat "Insurance card?" The woman handed over her insurance card and smiled, attempting to make part of this exchange polite. The nurse sneered and swept out of the room. The woman lightly sighed and returned to staring at nothing. Upon the nurse's return, she signed herself out of the hospital, retrieved her card, and was on her way. She had done this many times, and she was sure the State health care system wasn't happy, but it kept her on her feet. That was the most important thing. Now to report in.

_The girl was carrying her brother now, since he couldn't run any further. They crashed through the forest behind their house, across pastures, tripped over archaic stone walls, and ran some more until the girl's legs gave out too. She knew they didn't run far, but she hoped it was enough. The man was chasing her; he's treated her worse since she cut him, even though it was little more than a scratch. This time he tried to take her again, since their mother refused and again offered the girl in her place to save herself a beating. She heard sheep bleating and running in the field she just ran through, and she didn't have to see what startled them. It was the same thing she had nightmares about every day, only to find she wasn't sleeping. She instinctively threw herself over her younger brother, who had finally regained his strength. He took one look at the man and darted, leaving her behind to fend for herself. The man's fist came crashing down all over her body. She was built sturdier than other girls her age, and had developed into a woman faster too. Both of these made her a target, since her size made the man think she could take more damage, and the other characteristic for more obvious reasons. Her body soon gave in to the beatings, and as her mind shut down she knew what was to come again._

Another photograph. No name, just a picture and last known location. The woman sighed, adjusting her dark hair so it wasn't in the way. She was never given a choice, whether to serve these photos. It was made quite clear what would happen once she stopped. None of this was done in person, anyway, so there was no one to speak to should she wish to invite this fate. Just a series of dead drops. She memorized the information and tossed the folder into the nearby furnace. Last seen in Nashua. The last few had been here in Nashua, and for this she was grateful. She hated hitchhiking all over New England, feared the possibilities in that situation.

This was the part she enjoyed, if any of this could be enjoyed at all. Finding her target. Learning all about him; his habits, favorite foods, friends, enemies, fears, everything. She would follow for days after she has the information she needs, just to learn more. Humanity was something she lost faith in, not that she could remember ever having it, but she was still curious as to why it only seemed that way to her. Why did everyone else want friends, family, loved ones? Why did she yearn to be alone, to just see the world burn for what had happened to her, for the lack of help or support afterwards? Surely she wasn't alone in having an eventful past, yet everyone else seems as if she was, especially since her own façade of normalcy was quite transparent no matter how hard she worked at it. Another thing she wanted to learn was why did these things happen? The more she watched, the more she could put the pieces together, or so she reasoned. She learned a few things, some of which saved her from a less than pleasant situation, so she decided she must be making progress.

Her first stop was to get a new outfit. She had a line of credit at a few stores in the local mall, so there she went. She hated picking out clothes, and she hated the mall, but she couldn't go around with a gaping hole in her shirt and fresh stitches, not to mention blood stains in all her clothes. She drew stares as she boarded the bus, dropped 75 cents into the coin slot and sat down near the door. The ride was silent, save for a crying baby and loud headphones from the back. Once she arrived at the mall, she drew stares and some taunts, but no one met her glances. She was used to this, to a degree, but she still felt a little uncomfortable. She quickly picked up jeans long enough to cover her feet and a t-shirt, paid, and changed in the restrooms. The shirt was a little tight for her conservative taste, but it would do. She told herself she could pick up a better shirt later as she waited for the bus. After a brief thought, she turned and browsed for a cheap sweater and felt better about the shirt and weather when she bought that too. The bus pulled up as she zipped up the sweater. As she rode, the woman realized she forgot to replace her sneakers. Shrugging, she crossed her ankles under the seat and watched for her destination: the Radisson Hotel.

"_Ashley Johnson, please report to the nurse's office. Ashley Johnson to the nurse's office." The girl stopped. Why was she being paged? The school year just started up again, and she was instructed to meet up with her brother after school_, _but she couldn't find him at the meeting spot. She stood frozen with indecision until the intercom rang out her name again. She went immediately to the nurse's office, hoping to find her brother there too. Maybe she was being called because he got hurt. She panicked at the thought. She knew what would happen to her if their mother found out her brother got beat up at school again. "Ash, you are his older sister. It's your duty to teach him, take care of him, and above all protect him from harm. Do you understand?" Her mother's words floated through her head as she rounded the corner into the nurse's doorway. She was greeted by her brother, safe as can be. Their mother was there too, sitting on one of the beds and crying. Officer Cal, the nurses, and an unfamiliar woman where there too. Everyone looked somber, except her brother who joyfully showed her the lollipop he had received moments before. "If you came when you were called the first time, you would have gotten one too!" he teased. _

"_David, shut the fuck up!" Their mother screamed, moving as if to reach him, but was immediately subdued by Officer Cal. She began to mutter nonsensical things under her breath as she did a lot of the time. Ash looked around as everyone turned to her. The unfamiliar woman moved forward and tried to put her arms around the girl, who immediately ducked down, slide back, and looked up with furrowed brow and ready posture trying to understand what was going on._

"_I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to hurt you." The woman said softly, as if to a wild animal. "See? Look," she put her arms around David in a similar fashion as she intended to do with Ash, who lunged forward to try to protect him, only to trip and fall. As she pushed herself up, David's face beamed when the arms enveloped him, and a little blood dripped out of his cracked lips. "No harm done. Oops, let me get that." The woman reached for a tissue from the nurse's desk and dabbed at David's lip._

_Ash struggled to understand what was happening as she got up, blood dripping from her own severely dry lips from impact. "Who…are…you?" She stammered out finally. "What did you do to him? What is going on?" She asked, words flying from her mouth as she looked around in a growing frenzy of confusion. Looking from David to the unfamiliar woman, to Officer Cal still holding their sobbing and muttering mother in check, to the nurses who remained silent, Ash slowly backed up until she reached the wall and could go no further. The door closed as a teacher walked by, a line of students following her lead to the waiting buses. A few peeked through the window, but moved on excited to finally be free of school for the day. _

"_You can call me Anne. I hear you like to be called Ash. Is this true?" The woman stepped forward again. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." Ash stared wide-eyed at the woman slowly approaching her._

"_Be careful, ma'am. That girl's a fighter." Officer Cal warned. He trained his eyes on the girl, who stared back for a second as if to lung at him, then snapped her gaze on the threat at hand. It was true, Ash had spent her whole life learning how to fight and applying the information. It was unanimous that she was quite talented, but more than a few expressed worry about a young girl sparring instead of playing with the friends she wished she had. These were the people that didn't know or ignored her home life and thought the broken bones and deep slices were as much from training too hard as the smaller bruises._

"_Officer, this is my field. She's in bad shape, sure, but she's still a little girl underneath." Anne shot a look at Cal, and then returned her gentle gaze to Ash and smiled. "Well, Ash, you and David here get to go on a sleep over. Doesn't that sound like fun?"_

_Ash vaguely recalled some of her classmates recounting the fun they had at sleep overs, and how she was always sad that they passed her over time and again when it came to invitations. She even walked to one of the girl's house who was hosting one, thinking maybe they just forgot. She was corrected and sent home, and laughed at for months. Only a couple of boys would stand to hang around her, but even they kept their distance most of the time. Ash, with her myriad injuries of varying severity and age, was the 'weird girl' that parents warned against. The thought that she had finally been invited made Ash smile wide, blood smeared over her teeth more dripped from her deeply split lip. She hasn't smiled before, to her memory, and it hurt more than she expected. David, too, looked happy. He turned to their mother, now rocking herself back and forth instead of crying or muttering. "Is it true? We can go?"_

_Their mother looked to break from her psychosis briefly as she looked up at him, then returned to muttering, rocking hard enough that the bed rocked with her and threatened to break or bend under her girth. "Yes, you can. We need to go soon if we want to get there in time." Anne replied. David squealed in joy, and Ash continued to smile. _

_As they left, Ash again dodged Anne's outstretched hand, eyeing it distrustfully, her smile gone as if it never were; Ash looked back at their mother, who had begun to wail. "Don't worry, mom. It's just a sleep over." She was almost angry with herself for believing this strange woman, for following her into whatever new kind of hell she had to offer. She seemed so nice, though. Like the teachers, almost, but it seemed less… forced, she thought. Whatever this woman had for them, Ash told herself it was better than what she somehow knew they were leaving behind for good._

It had been a while since the woman received a photograph. Or anything for that matter. She enjoyed the free time, and spent it hiking around the mountains and forests, her favorite place to be. She even toyed with the idea of visiting a friend she had been emailing when she could get to a computer, but realized she was in no place to answer any questions that were expected to come up. She was homeless, she was a weapon pointed by some mysterious organization, and she was still covered in semi-recent injuries from both assignments and the underground fighting she'd taken up to raise money for a place to stay, and for fun which she would never admit to them or anyone. Way too many questions she didn't even really have the answers to. She mentally apologized to her friend, and continued her wandering.

Several days later, the woman was found by someone from one of her former schools, and taken in for a while after foolishly admitting she was homeless. The woman did everything she could to make herself useful, to the point of getting in the way sometimes. She had been sleeping on the instructor's couch for almost a week when two things arrived for her, taped to the front door. One was a note reading "Your debt is paid", and the other was a letter from her brother, whom she thought long dead. She read the letter. It was short, but it read like she thought her brother would talk. He was across the country now, living with their father. He missed her deeply, and wanted her to come live with them, or at least visit. She laid it down on the table in front of the couch, and thought. She did not want to go. She had been looking into colleges again, and trying to move on with her life, and the note finally gave her that freedom. And yet, she couldn't be long from her brother's side, not since he was in fact alive. But if he was alive this long, maybe we was safe. He didn't sound upset, the handwriting was messy, but not in any way that indicated distress. Maybe she could continue with her own life. She sat back and pondered the thought with what passed for a smile.

_Crack! The whip came down hard on Ash's raw back. She couldn't see, it was too dark, but she knew where she was. Sometime ago, after Anne brought her and David to a home with a few other kids already there, Ash was taken from that home and placed in another home; this one for Christian girls who were orphaned. She tried to explain that her mother was alive, but the staff only replied that she lived here now. One day they asked her to pray over food, and she refused. "There is no God", she replied innocently. That landed her in the basement, where she had been ever since. Every day, staff came down and beat her, making her memorize verses from the Bible, and beating her more if she got it wrong. Sometimes the male staff member would come down alone for a different purpose, one she hated even more. Occasionally they would ask who her Lord is, who saved her. She always said no one, since she knew by now that no one would save her from anything; she was completely alone now, and always will be. She hoped she could someday accept that fact at least enough that she'd stop crying every time she thought of it._

"Ash!" The joyful male voice yelled in the terminal. She turned to find a man she barely recognized as her father, and a boy of about fifteen. They were both holding neon construction paper with "Welcome Home, Ash" written on them in black marker. The instructor she was staying with found the note and gave not a week's notice that she was to go to her father and brother. Ash thought very seriously about just disappearing, and not having to go, but she also wanted to see her brother. Maybe it was the start of something good in her life, she hoped. She also hoped this wasn't the big mistake it seemed to be.

"David? Is that you?" Ash asked incredulously. She smiled, knowing in that instant that every injury she sustained trying to shield him was worth it. He looked healthy and happy. "You got tall." Was all she could say. He had indeed gotten taller than her, clearly taking after their father who stood head and shoulders above everyone else in the terminal, and even drawing some looks for it.

"How've you been?" He asked. He beamed a smile down at her too, one she remembered seeing in a less than pleasant setting.

She fought the urge to just run away, to desperately get the money to get back to New England, and smiled back at both of them. "Pretty good. The flight was fun." They went and picked up the bag of clothes her instructor bought for her and as they went through the automatic doors leading outside, Ash was then exposed for the first time to the suffocating heat of Louisiana.

"_But I'm not ready!" Ash screamed at the staff members around her. It was almost her eighteenth birthday, time to age out of State care. She looked forward to this day for years, only to have all that hope turn to dread and fear as the day finally approached and the entirety of what will happen dawned on her. Since she left the Christian orphanage, she had learned to have friends, to ask for help, to do everything a normal person could do in the past few years. All of that support that she had learned to rely on was about to dissolve. The staff around her held on tight to keep her from fighting them off, but she cried harder for it. Her few friends, even those not in State care, couldn't be her friend anymore. Her therapist acted like just that, when days before she acted warm and understanding. Her social worker was the only one who remained the same, and when she was called, took time out of her day and over load of cases, to talk to Ash. She explained that this needed to happen, that they couldn't take care of her forever. It was going to be ok, though, because she'll be contacted by someone else soon who will take care of her. Ash took no comfort in this. The Home was full of stories of what happened to kids who aged out of the program rather than get adopted, none of it something she wanted to think about much less experience._

_The day of her birthday, she was indeed contacted by someone else from the State, someone she'd never met. He told her she had displayed unique talents throughout her time in care, and a unique personality to match. Ash listened as he explained her condition could be used for good, that it doesn't have to be a burden on her anymore. He directed her to go to the place written on a sheet of paper he gave her, and wait for him there the next day. When she arrived, the location turned out to be a street café. On the table she was to go to, all she found was a folder with a photograph, last known location of the man in the picture, and instructions. When she saw what was written, Ash was confused. Thinking they were maybe not for her, but left by someone else, she threw the whole folder away, and waited for another few hours for the man to show._

_Several days later, a black car drove alongside her as she was walking. Looking over, Ash saw the man she was to meet before, but never showed up. He apologized for not being there, and said they can meet now. She got in the car, thinking about all the times she and her social worker or therapist had to meet like this too. He asked if she saw the folder, to which she replied yes," but it had strange instructions. I didn't think it was for me to do. I could never do anything like that!" _

_The man nodded. "Do you understand your situation right now?" He asked, studying her. She looked around, and realized the windows were heavily tinted. She also saw the inside of the car was immaculate, as if someone spent hours cleaning just the inside of this car. Soon after noticing this, she apologized profusely for her dirty shoes, which left light brown prints on the floor of the car. "Anything else?" He pried._

_Ash took another look around. "No, that's all. Did I miss something?" She asked shamefully. The car slowed to a stop, and the man switched it off._

"_Where are we?" He asked. _

"_A warehouse, I think. But why?" Ash looked up at the building. They had parked around back, so all she could see was the building and the door. The man got out, waved her to follow, and entered the building._

"_This is where you will learn your place in life. This is where you will cease being the drain on the State's resources and become an asset to make life better for everyone. You will learn that the instructions you threw away are not that hard, that you can do them. You will learn to see life as it truly is, people as they truly are, and learn to act accordingly. You have already received the first part of your training from your biological family and first group home. You've learned to react efficiently and keep your head under pressure. Now you'll learn how to act instead of react. You will learn to study your situation better, too." He chuckled. "You will learn everything you need to know for the rest of your life right here."_

_Ash was amazed. Her social worker was right! She going to learn everything, she was going to be ok after all! She was so excited to learn about being a functional adult and maybe learning how to deal with whatever is wrong with her, she disregarded the bit about the strange instructions. "When do I get to start?"_

Ash sighed, looking around her apartment. She had been recently divorced but some of his things still lay around. He decided he could store them here, and she didn't care. She was her own person now, things were going to get better. She thought of all of the other times she said that to herself, and what had happened right afterwards, without fail. She sighed again. "Not again. Not gonna happen again." She stroked the silver cat that rubbed himself against her leg. She was a sophomore in college, again, but in a four-year art school this time. She consistently had good grades, she had some freelance work, and she had a place to live and two cats to share it with. She started to really believe things were going to improve this time, and smiled widely as she relaxed into her couch, next to her orange cat, who was purring heavily as he always did. Life is good. She always said it, but never believed it until now.

Life is good.


End file.
